


Fool Me Once

by vonvoyage



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Parallel Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22864789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vonvoyage/pseuds/vonvoyage
Summary: A couple of strange things had been happening in Beacon Hills lately, and Stiles waking up in some type of alternate universe in which Derek Hale is his boyfriend is most definitely the strangest one.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 15
Kudos: 507





	Fool Me Once

**Author's Note:**

> So this story just hasn't really been vibing with me, but I had it written so I figure I might as well post it in hopes that someone out there could get some enjoyment out of it

The day starts out normal. The keyword here being _starts_.

Stiles doesn’t get home until around three in the morning the day before, having spent the evening dealing with the newest monster that’s made its way into Beacon Hills. Or, they’re not exactly sure yet if it even _is_ a monster to be precise.

They haven’t seen it, and no one in the town has died or even been injured, which is new and to Stiles even kind of unsettling, however strange that may sound. He doesn’t like not knowing, and as things stand now, it just feels like a constant threat hanging over their heads ready to strike.

Now, he can’t deny to himself that he has somewhat missed spending time with the pack and dealing with the different cases of the supernatural when being away at college, but at the same time, it really isn’t good for his stress levels.

The only reason they even know that something is in town in the first place is because the pack has been able to smell it. Just small hints here and there, but enough to leave no doubt about it. There’s also the fact that slightly strange things have been happening. The fire department caught on fire (which, _the irony_ ), old man Riley who lived down the street from Boyd had started swearing up and down that his house was haunted, and last week Scott had texted him completely distraught because apparently Allison had called out of the blue and broken up with him. However, when Scott had confronted her about it the next day, she claimed to have never had the conversation and that she had no idea what he was talking about, which, even if it wasn’t for the fact that Allison would never pull a cruel prank like that to begin with, it was pretty darn hard to lie to a werewolf. Which left everyone confused as to who had _actually_ called Scott, who was still standing by the fact that it had definitely been Allison’s voice.

So, yeah, some slightly strange things had been happening.

As the self-designated researcher of the group, he also felt at a loss as he couldn’t come up with any good theories as to what was going on. The current top one was that it might be some kind of ghost that decided to stick around to haunt and mess with people, but then Stiles had a hard time imagining that ghosts smelt like anything at all, and why and how they would even call Scott pretending to break up with him he had no idea.

In his defense, he really didn’t have a lot to go on here, and he didn’t know if all of the peculiar things that had happened even had anything to do with each other in the first place, or if it was all just a big coincidence.

Either way, after having been up late for a pack meeting and to research, Stiles sleeps in the next day, and nothing is out of the ordinary as he goes downstairs to make himself some breakfast. His dad is already sitting by the dinner table reading the paper, barely looking up when he greets him good morning. It's not until Stiles has made himself a bowl of cereal and sits down and his dad asks him - still not looking up from the paper and sounding completely casual - if he’s going to go see Derek today, that things turn _weird_.

Stiles splutters, just barely managing not to drop any food down in his lap as he simply stares at his dad from across the table.

“Wha– I mean – What? Huh?” Is the intelligent words that fall out of his mouth.

His dad finally turns his head up, raised eyebrows in a look that clearly states that he thinks Stiles is behaving oddly. Which Stiles would like to put on record is not fair, seeing as _he_ is definitely not the one currently being odd here.

“I asked if you were going to see Derek, seeing as you’ve spent most days with him since summer started.”

“I don’t – Huh?” he repeats, finding it increasingly difficult to understand what is happening, and his dad’s eyebrows raise just a fraction higher.

“You know Stiles, I know I had a hard time accepting your relationship in the beginning, but I don’t see why you would get flustered now when you two have been together for months already.”

“Relation… relationship?” His head is spinning. For a second he had thought that maybe his dad had found out everything about him hanging out with werewolves, and you know, _the fact that werewolves even exists_. But this, he can’t for the life of him understand why his dad seems to be talking about him and Derek being supposedly _together._ That dude barely tolerates him, Stiles is pretty sure. How has his dad even come to this conclusion? And wait, did he just say…

“ _Months?_ ” The words are more or less a squeak as they leave his lips.

His dad’s expression goes a bit more confused and concerned as he watches Stiles sitting there probably looking like he’s struggling not to do something stupid like start hyperventilating. Which is basically exactly what he’s doing.

“Son, are you feeling alright?”

“Uhm, yeah, I mean, I’m fine.” Comes the automatic response, even as a panicked scream echoes in his head. “Just… what makes you think that me and Derek are…” He pauses, cringing at his next word, “dating?”

“Well, I mean, there is the fact that you told me, and of course, let’s not forget about that time I walked in on you two in bed together,” he answers, his voice dry. “Honestly Stiles, what –”

Stiles almost makes the chair fall over in his haste to stand up, eyes the size of saucers.

“I’m going to Scott,” he says, and he can feel the way his whole face is burning up.

“You haven’t even finished your cereal.” His dad looks at him worryingly. “Son, what is going on?”

“I’ll have something to eat at Scott’s,” he simply answers, rushing to put his bowl away on the counter and getting his jacket and shoes on. His dad’s voice reaches him just before he’s out the door.

“Don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”

He doesn’t bother with a response, simply continuing out and more or less running towards his jeep.

**o0o**

“So in conclusion, either my dad has completely gone mad or this is like that thing with you and Allison and has something to do with that new thing in town.” He finishes telling Scott, who’s been quietly listening with a slight frown on his face the entire time.

“I don’t think I really understand,” Scott finally says, looking for all the world like a confused puppy. “Do you mean that you and Derek are no longer together? Cause if that’s the case then like dude, I’m so sorry, that sucks, and like, you should have told me.”

Stiles simply stares at him dumbfounded.

“And what do you mean ‘ _the new thing in town_ ’?” Scott continues. “Also, did you mention something about me and Allison? Are you talking about Allison Argent?”

“Scott, if this is a joke it really isn’t funny,” he says, trying his best to quell the incoming panic.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Is the reply he gets, accompanied by more confused puppy eyes.

“I think I should go see Deaton,” he says.

“As in Deaton, _my boss_? And why would you need to see a vet _?_ ”

They both end up just sitting there staring at each other, until Stiles decides to break the silence by asking, “You at least remember that you’re a werewolf don’t you?”

“ _A werewolf?”_

**o0o**

Stiles is relatively sure that he is in some sort of alternate universe.

After talking to Scott, he has had it made clear that apparently he and Derek have been dating for officially about five months, but been seeing each other longer. They met while he was back home visiting from college and at the car repair shop, where apparently Derek happened to be working. After then awkwardly circling around each other for some time, Stiles had finally mustered up the courage to ask if Derek wanted to make out in his car (“ _I did what?_ ” “To be fair, it was very successful”). Scott has no knowledge about any werewolves, there is no pack, there have been no dead bodies found in any woods, and according to Scott, he and Allison have barely ever spoken, and she’s currently dating Jackson (“ _Jackson?_ Wait, what about Lydia?” “Lydia’s gay, last I heard she’s been dating some girl in college called Erica Reyes”), which, that had taken a few minutes to process.

All in all, everything is confusing and nothing makes sense. Scott probably thinks that Stiles has smoked something, or just completely gone off the deep end, but he still listens to what he says and answers all his questions, which is why he is the best and will always be Stiles number one bro.

He’s in the middle of explaining to Scott how he thinks there’s something supernatural from his world that has sent him here, and that he really needs to figure out what’s going on so he can go back home, when his phone rings.

Taking it out of his pocket he ends up just staring at the screen when he sees Derek’s name, _which has a heart next to it_.

“Derek’s calling?” Scott asks. “You should answer dude, I’m pretty sure you two had planned to meet today, he’s probably wondering where you are.”

“I can’t answer!” Stiles exclaim. “I just found out we’re together, I can’t talk to him! What would I say?”

Scott shrugs his shoulders.

“No, I’m not picking up,” he states firmly. “It would be best if I just avoid Derek.”

“You really think you’re going to be able to do that?”

“Hey, I have some awesome avoiding skills!”

“Sure you do, bro,” Scott answers placating, his tone making it quite clear that he’s only saying it to humor him, and Stiles glares at him in return.

“I’ll show you,” he says adamantly “Project ‘Avoiding Derek and find a way to go back home’ is going to be a success.”

**o0o**

Perhaps unsurprisingly, it’s not a success.

After finishing talking to Scott (and continuing to ignore Derek who sent multiple texts after the unanswered phone call) he actually drives to Deaton to see if the man can help him.

However, it’s pretty soon clear that he really is only a vet here, answering Stiles outright question if he’s a druid with tilting his head to the side and just staring. So after that turns out to be a bust, Stiles decides to drive back home again.

But as he’s pulling up to the house, he’s met by the sight of Derek’s familiar black Camaro already parked outside. For a second, he debates simply driving away, but then that makes him feel a bit ridiculous, so he resigns himself to his fate and parks the car.

As he opens the door and steps inside, his dad calls out to him from the living room. “Derek’s upstairs!”

“Cool,” he answers, trying to go for casual but undoubtedly failing. The fact that his dad doesn’t comment on it or say anything else isn’t comforting either, because he knows that he’ll be expecting an explanation for this whole thing later.

Making his way up the stairs, Stiles can feel himself dragging his feet to try and delay the unavoidable. When he’s then faced with the door leading into his room, he lets his hand hover over the handle for several seconds, before bracing himself and pushing it open.

The sight of Derek Hale lying stretched out and comfortable on top of his bed, reading one of his books, was definitely not a sight Stiles thought he’d ever be witnessing in his life. All Derek Hale had ever done in his room before was kind of just lurk threateningly in a corner.

“So…”, he starts, closing the door behind him, “You…”, but then he can’t for the life of him figure out what to say next, and so instead the sentence is left to simply die out. For someone who can basically never stop talking, this is really an opportune time for him to run out of words.

On the bed, Derek lays the book aside and turns towards him with raised eyebrows.

“You, what?” he prompts. When Stiles doesn’t answer he sighs and sits up, and damn, Stiles should really focus on other things then how attractive he’s looking while doing so. Really, it’s unfair how the man can make the most mundane things seem sexy.

“You didn’t answer my call and you’ve been ignoring my texts,” Derek says, an underlying tone implying he clearly wants an answer as to _why_. “When I called your dad, he said you’d headed over quite abruptly to Scott earlier today.”

“Yes, right, I know,” he starts, and then adds, “Sorry.” Since that seems like the right thing to do. When Derek only continues looking at him pointedly, waiting for a further explanation, he hears himself start rambling.

“Um, well… You see… Scott was just like really upset, because there’s this girl that he really likes, and you know, some things happened and he just really needed his best friend there for him, so you know, _there was I._ ” He can feel himself smiling awkwardly as he finishes his explanation, all the while just really hoping that Derek believes him, even though Derek can always easily detect his bullshit, probably even without the whole being able to hear his heartbeat thing.

“Right.” Is the deadpan answer he receives. “And so how does that explain you ignoring me?”

“Oh, I just had my phone on silence and I was so wrapped up in dealing with Scott you know, so like I completely forgot, and then I was going to answer when I got home because I took my phone up and saw your texts and stuff, but then I mean I saw your car and you were obviously here, so I figured it was kinda unnecessary at that point.”

For a few seconds, Derek only stares at him as he shifts nervously side to side, before he gives a deep sigh and stands up.

“Look, I get that Scott’s important to you, so you could have just told me that you couldn’t meet up today because you needed to be with him, but instead I was left not knowing where you were or what was going on.”

“Yeah, you’re absolutely right, I shouldn’t have done that, it was really rude and I’m really sorry.”

Derek sighs yet again and then, before Stiles really has much thought at all to process it, he closes the distance between them and wraps Stiles up in a hug.

At first he sort of freezes, before letting out something closely resembling a squeak and flailing a bit with his arms until Derek takes a step back and breaks the hug.

 _They just hugged._ Derek Hale just hugged him. Voluntarily.

Is he meant to know what to do in this situation?

Because he doesn’t. Like he honestly has no idea what the best course of action is now that the initial plan of avoidance failed miserably.

“Stiles?” Derek asks, voice filled with uncertainty and confusion, and eyes looking at him with something that might be hurt. Which is actually quite strange because Stiles hasn’t really seen Derek express many emotions at all except for anger and irritation before.

“Sorry, I’m just feeling a little off today, and I think I’m getting sick, you probably shouldn’t be like that close to me or I’ll infect you with something,” he lies, hoping it sounds convincing. Then again, Derek did buy into the whole spiel about Scott, so maybe he doesn’t need to worry all too much.

“Hey, I don’t care about that. I haven’t seen you since Thursday, I’ve missed you,” Derek says, and okay, Stiles supposes in this universe that’s actually a thing, even though it’s hard to try and get his head around it. _Derek missing him._

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I’ve missed you too.” Because what the hell else is he supposed to say to that?

Derek’s eyes soften at his words, but when he moves to try and wrap Stiles back up in a hug, and Stiles moves away, the look of confused hurt returns.

“Listen, I’m serious,” he says, “I don’t want you to get sick because of me, and I am actually not feeling all too well, and after Scott I’m just kinda tired, you know? Kinda just wanna rest for a bit.”

He feels nervous and fidgety as he looks at Derek, feeling bad about his clear dismissal, but also just hoping that Derek will leave because he’s currently at a complete loss as to what he should do about the entire situation.

“So you want me to go.” It could be a question, but it’s said as a statement, and Stiles has to stop himself from insisting that Derek stays as he watches him withdrawing into himself, a very careful mask settling over his face as to not let his emotions show. It’s a familiar sight, and it pains him that he’s the cause of it.

“I mean, I just think it wouldn’t be much fun for you to watch me sleep,” he answers, trying to gloss it over, but the mask is unmoving on Derek’s face.

“Okay, well, text me when you feel better then.”

Stiles almost winces at his tone of voice, but he doesn’t try to stop him as Derek walks out of his room, instead remaining where he stands and waiting until he can hear the sound of the Camaro starting up and driving away before he sort of just allows himself to collapse in a heap onto the bed.

Not even a minute after that he can hear the sounds of his dad’s familiar footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping by the doorway to his room.

Very pointedly, he doesn’t turn his head to acknowledge him, even though he knows it’s a pointless attempt at avoiding the conversation.

“You know how this morning I said we would talk about it later?” He hears his dad say. “Well, it’s later, and we’re going to talk about it.”

Stiles gives a sigh and sits up on the bed, facing him.

“There really isn’t anything to say.”

“Is that so?” His dad doesn’t even seem the slightest bit convinced as he raises his eyebrows at him.

Looking away, he tries to come up with what to say, before realizing that he doesn’t even really need to lie, he simply needs to omit most of the truth.

“Derek and I just – We’re just not in the best place right now, okay?” He makes sure to keep his eyes still turned away as he says it, a way to build on the impression that he’s upset.

As he looks back at his dad, his expression has changed into one of sympathy.

“I’m sorry to hear that, kiddo,” he says, walking up and sitting down next to Stiles, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You think it’s something you can work through? I know how much you two love each other.”

For a moment, Stiles feels taken aback. _They love each other._

Although perhaps that shouldn’t come as a surprise, Scott did say that they had been a couple for 5 months. But still, hearing it out loud, it feels like a big thing to take in.

“Yeah, I mean, all couples fight, right?”

“That they do,” his dad says, patting him on the back before standing up again. “How about this; it’s Saturday, so why don’t I order us some pizza for later tonight and we’ll just have a quiet evening in front of the tv together?”

“Yeah, sounds great. Thanks, dad.”

“Nothing to thank me for, son, and now you just come to me if you want to talk about anything, okay?”

Stiles gives him a smile as he nods. “Yeah, of course.”

**o0o**

Stiles spends the rest of the afternoon researching and trying to understand his situation the best that he can. First he looks over everything in his room, but there’s nothing different from the way it usually looks, and checking the calendar it's also clear that it's the exact same date as back in his own universe.

Because of this, it makes him wonder what happened to the Stiles that actually is supposed to be here. He considers the grim idea that maybe he has somehow pushed him out of his own body and as a result killed him, or even the idea that maybe the real Stiles is still there and he has just taken over his mind. Or, there’s even the possibility that they have switched places and the other Stiles is currently back in his own universe.

Either scenario doesn’t really sit well with him, and he tries not to freak out about it too badly. Then again, at least if they have switched places, his friends back home will try to find a way to switch them back. Something which is probably in his best interest seeing as Stiles is starting to worry about if magic even exists in this universe to begin with. If it doesn’t, he’s won’t have anyone to turn to for help and his prospects of returning home look much grimmer. There’s also the fact that if he’s simply disappeared from back home, no one will know what has happened to him, and it pains him at the thought of his dad worrying.

He reminds himself that he can’t yet be sure it even is a parallel universe he is dealing with in the first place. But despite this, he feels himself inclined to believe so, since he can’t think of many other possibilities. The likelihood of for example being in a coma and imagining everything seems even more far-fetched in his mind. The whole situation just feels far too real to be any form of dream.

As he tries to think about what type of being could have possibly sent him here, his thoughts are quickly drawn to the idea of the Fae. His previous theory of it maybe being a ghost has already been ruled out, but the Fae seems like a reasonable explanation. It’s frustrating not to have the bestiary or any other actually real information available to him, but from memory he thinks he can remember there being something about some of them being powerful enough to bend time. It doesn’t feel all too unbelievable to assume they would then also have the ability to bend space itself and be able to send Stiles here.

The reasons behind why they would do such a thing, though, is a mystery to him. Not to mention the messing around they had done before this, like fake calling Scott, if that really was them behind all of that. Stiles can’t for the life of him figure out what they could gain from it. As far as he knows, no one in the pack has been in any contact with any Fae, and so the prospect that it would be some type of revenge plan seems silly. Stiles also suspects that if the Fae wanted revenge for something, things would end a bit more bloody.

He resigns himself to the fact that there is nothing he can currently do, nor is there more information he has to go off of. In fact, all Stiles can really do at this point is to wait. Either for his friends to find a way to bring him back, or for something to happen in this universe that may shed some light on what’s going on. It’s a frustrating realization as waiting has never been much of a strong suit for him.

**o0o**

He forces himself to relax the best that can the rest of the evening by spending time with his dad. The pizza tastes great and they watch Star Wars Episode IV, which is still just as good as the first time he watched it.

As the clock starts nearing midnight he bids his dad goodnight, and it’s first when he’s lying in bed that the thoughts he’s tried to push away come crawling back. More precisely, it’s the predicament that he’s found himself in regarding Derek.

He doesn’t want to screw things up for the Stiles who really belongs here for when he returns or they switch back places, but at the same time it feels as if he would be taking what wasn’t his by seeing Derek again. The easiest thing for him to do would definitely be to simply avoid Derek, especially seeing as he doesn't even know how to act around him. Yet the idea of possibly ruining the other Stiles’ relationship also leaves him feeling guilty.

He glances to the side at where his phone lies on the bedside table. He hasn’t touched it since getting back home from Scott, but now he opens it up and looks at Facebook for clues about this alternative life of his. To no surprise, his status says he’s in a relationship with Derek Hale and there are several photos on there of them together.

It’s both strange and uncomfortable to look at so he tries to ignore them as he scrolls down his page, but ultimately there’s no success on finding anything of use. Apart from the lovey-dovey photos of Derek and him on there, his Facebook page looks much the same as the one from his own universe. As he exits the app, a part of him considers looking at messages between the two of them, but stops himself as the idea feels like an intrusion of privacy.

Now, maybe it’s silly to technically keep things private from yourself, but it still makes him feel icky. Also, perhaps he just doesn't want to torture himself with things that he can’t have. The Derek in this place is not _his_ Derek, and he’ll do well to remember that.

**o0o**

When he wakes up the next morning he has a short moment of thinking that he’s back home in his own room. A quick look at his phone, however, tells him that he’s still stuck in this alternate universe and he collapses back onto the bed with a sigh as the reality of the situation hits him.

Forcing himself to get up, he finds at least a small amount of comfort in the familiarity of having breakfast with his dad, who tactfully doesn’t mention Derek again. His dad so far appears to be one of the few people in this world who’s the exact same, and thank god for that. Stiles isn’t sure if he’d be able to handle living in a house with some new strange version of a parent, on top of everything else going on. At least now he can for a short moment pretend that things are normal.

Returning to his room, he spends a few minutes restlessly debating on what to do, before deciding that he can’t just stay put. If nothing else he should explore the town, see what else was changed and look for possible clues. Anything that he could do, he should try.

He calls out for his dad as he makes his way down the stairs. “Hey, dad! I think I’ll head out to the library for a bit so don’t really know when I’ll be back!”

“Don’t forget your keys then, I’ll maybe head into the station a bit later!”

“Will do!” he responds, patting down the pocket in his jacket to reassure himself the keys are with him as he heads out the door.

Taking the car he, then makes the drive downtown, not encountering anything really worthy of note on the way there. As he arrives and takes a walk around, he observes not only his surroundings but also the people he walks past. Disappointingly, he concludes to himself that as far as he can tell everything appears to be the same. Not only are the stores no different, but he also recognizes some of the people he walks past and they greet him with smiles as if it’s just any other Sunday.

As a last resort he heads to the library, where he tries his best to find any relevant books that could help provide information, but by the time afternoon rolls around he’s browsed through over 40 of them and is still stuck on square one. Perhaps it was wishful thinking to hope to find books with actual real information about the supernatural, but it still serves to only make him feel more hopeless about the whole thing.

Admitting defeat, he decides to head out to grab some coffee and something to eat. He hasn’t had anything since breakfast and it’s first as he finishes reading that he notices how hungry he actually is.

Arriving at the diner he usually stops at, he finds a free booth and waits to be served. When the waitress does approach, she smiles down at him.

“No cute boyfriend with you today then?” she asks and Stiles feels momentarily taken aback by the question. He doubts he’s ever even heard Derek’s being mentioned in the same sentence as cute before, even less so as a word to actually describe him. Derek is many things; scary and intimidating sure, handsome and sexy absolutely, but _cute_?

He can only imagine Derek back home scowling in response to such a description.

“Just me,” he says, the words coming out half-choked and he clears his throat nervously.

“Well, you tell that cutie hi from me when you see him again,” she says, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Now, what can I get ya’?”

“Just some pancakes and black coffee is fine, thank you.”

“Coming right up,” she says, still smiling as she heads back to the kitchen to place the order. Stiles stares after her for a second before he picks up his phone and, without thinking too much about it, texts Derek. 

(3:16pm) _the waitress frm the diner told me to tell u hi_

He spends a few moments internally freaking out before deciding to put the phone away, but just before he can, he gets a reply.

(3:19pm) _Who?_

He stares at the text and can’t explain why his heart has suddenly started beating faster in his chest.

(3:20pm) _middle age, blonde short hair, green eyes_

(3:21pm) _You mean Brenda?_

(3:21pm) _sure, yeah, Brenda exactly_

(3:22pm) _Okay?_

(3:22pm) _Say hi back I guess_

Stiles can feel the itch in his fingers as he rereads Derek’s reply. It’s clear he’s still annoyed.

(3:23pm) _I’m sorry about yesterday_

His phone is quiet for a few excruciating minutes before he finally gets a text back.

(3:25pm) _It’s fine_

(3:25pm) _it’s not fine! ur totally mad at me_

(3:26pm) _I’m not mad_

(3:26pm) _u totally r I was a dick and I’m sorry I made u leave_

He’s interrupted as his food is placed in front of him and Stiles looks up from his phone.

“Enjoy your meal,” the waitress tells him, or Brenda, he supposes.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Is that your boyfriend you’re so engrossed in texting then?” She teases him and Stiles can feel a flush works its way up his cheeks.

“Eh yeah, I guess.”

“The two of you are just downright adorable,” she tells him and he can feel his blush deepen even more.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” She gives him a wink before she walks away again. _An actual wink._

Stiles kind of wants to sink through the floor from the embarrassment.

Shaking his head to himself and trying to will the blush to go away, he looks down at his phone again.

(3:27pm) _Yeah, you kind of were_

(3:28pm) _I wish you would tell me if something’s wrong_

He debates on how to respond, his fingers tapping at the table.

(3:30pm) _nothing’s wrong I promise! Was just feeling out of sorts or something_

(3:31pm) _You still at the diner?_

“Shit,” Stiles mutter to himself, he can already tell where Derek is going with that text. He really dug himself a hole here.

(3:31pm) _yeah, still here_

Taking the first bite of his pancakes he watches the three dots signaling that Derek’s typing. When he receives the text he already has his reply ready.

(3:32pm) _I’ll come pick you up and we can talk?_

(3:32pm) _I’m still not feeling that good, maybe tomorrow instead?_

When he doesn’t get a text back he can already feel the anxiety threatening to strike at the back of his mind. He’s really screwing this up and he can’t be the reason that Derek breaks up with this alternate version of him. What are the chances of a guy like Derek even falling in love with someone like him in the first place? Pretty low, he feels like. He probably ended up in one of the only versions of reality where this was even the case. How much of an ass would he be if he would be the one to ruin that? The biggest ass, that’s the answer.

(3:35pm) _or if u don’t mind possibly getting sick I guess maybe pick me up?_

(3:36pm) _I’ll be there in 10_

Stiles exhales at the reply. Okay, so he hasn’t entirely ruined it.

Yet, only a second later he realizes that he’s going to be forced to be alone with Derek again and pretend to be a couple, and the anxiety that’s been building up hits him full force.

“Okay, you can do this,” he tells himself underneath his breath as he forces himself to eat the rest of his pancakes, even though he’s too nervous to really enjoy the taste of them.

He manages to almost finish before his phone lights up with another incoming text.

(3:48pm) _I’m outside_

Sure enough, looking out through the window, Stiles can see Derek’s car parked outside the diner.

(3:48pm) _just have to pay, be right out!_

He calls Brenda over to get the bill for his meal and she wishes him a good rest of the day as he leaves.

Outside, his eyes immediately fall on Derek who is standing leaned against the side of his car, and Stiles forces his unwilling feet to move along as he walks over. Luckily, Derek doesn’t try to hug him this time.

“So… hi,” he says, shifting nervously.

Derek only looks back at him with furrowed brows.

“We should get in the car,” he finally says and Stiles resigns himself to his fate and obliges.

They drive away in silence and Stiles can’t help the way his leg starts nervously jittering as he glances over at Derek every few seconds, trying to discern his mood.

When he eventually pulls over into an almost completely vacant parking lot, Stiles braces himself for the confrontation.

“Okay,” Derek starts, turning to him, “just tell me what’s up.”

“Nothing! Okay, nothing’s up,” Stiles says, trying to look and sound as sincere as he can muster.

“That’s not true.” Derek shakes his head at him. “You’ve been acting strange since yesterday.”

“Listen, I was serious, I’m just not feeling that well!” Stiles tries to assure him, but Derek only leans back in his seat and looks away from him in response.

“I feel like you’re not telling me something.”

_Yeah, no shit._

“I’m not, okay? I’m not,” he lies, leaning forward to grab Derek’s hand, squeezing it. He doesn’t normally touch Derek all too much and he tries to ignore the way his fingers seem to tingle in sensation at the gesture. He’s doing this to try and mend the other Stiles and Derek’s relationship, nothing more.

“I’m serious, okay? I’m sorry if I’ve been weird but there really isn’t anything going on.” He looks at Derek imploringly, and after a few seconds which feels like a small eternity, Derek finally sighs and gives Stiles hand a squeeze back. Seeing Derek smiling at him, he can’t help but smile back.

“Okay, I trust you,” Derek says, and god, the look he gives Stiles is filled with way too much love for him to reasonably handle. He really needs to get out of this car before he does something stupid like lean in for a kiss.

“So you wanna go do something?” He asks, “Go to the movies or something?” _Somewhere we don’t have to actually talk._

“It’s pretty early for a movie, don’t you think?” Derek comments, tilting his head questioningly to the side. “Why don’t we just spend some time at my place. I can make us some dinner later.”

“You can cook?” Stiles blurts out before thinking better of it.

Derek looks at him with a frown. “What do you mean? I thought you loved my food.”

“Yeah, of course, sorry, don’t know why I said that,” he hurries to reply, silently cursing himself for talking without thinking. He really needs to keep up the act better.

“Okay.” Derek still seems unsure, but to Stiles relief he lets it go.

“I have some pasta at home so I can make us some carbonara then, that sounds good?”

“Yeah, yeah, sounds great!” Stiles agrees, too late realizing that he hasn’t actually objected to Derek’s idea of driving to his house and that it’s now a bit too late to protest.

If he thought being alone with Derek in his car was tough, the idea of being alone in his home seems far worse.

**o0o**

The apartment is a lot nicer than the loft Stiles is used to Derek living in. He marvels slightly at how bright, warm and generally homey it feels as he steps inside. Nothing at all like the bleakness of the loft. But then again, this version of Derek is something of a polar opposite to his Derek in general, so Stiles supposes it makes sense.

“It’s so clean,” he says, his eyes wide as he looks around and takes everything in.

At his side, Derek bursts out into laughter, and Stiles swings around to stare at him in astonishment, captivated by the sound of it, and by the way his eyes scrunch up in humor.

“Well, you haven’t been here for a couple of days so there hasn’t really been anyone around to make it messy,” he chuckles, sending Stiles a teasing smile that has his heart beating a fraction faster.

“Hey, I’m clean!” Stiles defends adamantly.

Derek only raises his eyebrows at him in answer. “You always leave your things lying around everywhere.”

And Stiles doesn’t know how to rebuttal that, because, fair enough.

“Don’t worry. You have other, more favorable qualities, that make up for it,” Derek reassures him with a smile.

Frowning, Stiles sends him a suspicious look. “Is that a sex reference?”

At his question, a playful look enters Derek’s eyes and the smile on his face grows into a full-blown smirk. “Wasn’t meant to be, but now that you mention it, you are very good at –”

“Okay, okay, okay! No need to make me blush!” He splutters, even as he can already feel his face burning up from embarrassment.

Derek only laughs again, and Stiles can’t make himself look away from it. This was the second time he’s witnessed Derek laughing now, and if he wasn’t careful, it was the type of sound a person could make themselves addicted to hearing.

Turning away, Stiles moves further into the apartment, trying not to be too obvious about the way he’s looking around. Carefully, he tries to sneak a peek into Derek’s bedroom, and immediately his eyes zero in on the iron man t-shirt hanging over the back of the armchair standing in the corner

“That’s my t-shirt!” He exclaims, automatically pointing at it as if to show Derek, looking towards him in surprise.

Derek only stares at him questioningly and furrows his brows again.

At his expression, Stiles instantly catches himself. “… I forgot I left it here,” he finishes lamely, dropping his hand down to his side again awkwardly.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Derek asks hesitatingly, reaching out towards him to brush against his arm. The light touch sends a small shiver down Stiles spine and he is quick to shift away from the touch.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he blurts out, more or less escaping around Derek and towards the door closer to the hallway. It’s more of an educated guess than anything, that the room will turn out to be the bathroom, but luck is on his side as he opens the door and sees the shower straight ahead.

Shutting the door behind him, he leans his head against it and tries not to panic. So much for keeping the act up, he berates himself with a sigh.

Dragging his hands through his hair and over his face, he takes a couple of calming breaths. Then, as his eyes happen to shift over to the sink, they focus in on the toothbrush holder, which instead of one, contains _two_ toothbrushes.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, and thinks that he and Derek must be serious indeed if he keeps both clothes and an extra toothbrush at his place.

Glancing at the door, he thinks that he’s probably really screwing this thing up. But even still, Stiles isn’t sure how he’s meant to pretend to be relaxed and that all of this is normal, when it’s anything but.

“You can do this,” he mumbles to himself determinedly.

He pretends to flush the toilet to make it at least somewhat believable before turning on the faucet, as if he’s washing his hands.

When he comes out of the bathroom, Derek has taken a seat on the couch and is busy texting someone on the phone. As soon as Stiles steps out, he puts it away and turns to him with an unsure expression.

An insecure Derek, what a thing to see, Stiles muses.

Carefully, he takes a seat on the other end of the couch, tugging his feet up underneath him and tries not to fidget.

“Who you texting?” he asks, trying for causal even as he’s pretty sure that it falls short.

“Laura.” Derek answers, making Stiles blink at him in shock. _Laura_. Of course his family is alive in this universe, Stiles should have already realized as much. “Mum has invited everyone for dinner at the house, so she asked if we were coming. I let her know we couldn’t make it.” He looks to the side, and Stiles can see the way his jaw is clenched tightly. In anger? Frustration? Stiles isn’t sure, but he feels it’s his responsibility to fix it either way. Knows Derek told Laura no because of how he’s been acting. And even though Stiles is still reeling from the fact that the whole Hale family is currently still alive and well in this version of Beacon Hills, he pushes it from his mind and focuses on Derek. Knows it would be suspicious to react too strongly to the simple fact that his sister texted him, either way.

“Listen…” he begins hesitatingly, tries to steel himself for what he’s about to say. “I know I said nothing was going on, and that wasn’t a lie, I promise.”

Slowly, Derek turns his head ever so slightly to glance at him, looking apprehensive over what he’s about to say.

“I think, the reason why I’ve been acting a little weird is just because I’ve been thinking a lot about the future lately and about the two of us…”

Derek’s eyes grow larger from one second to the next, sitting up straighter and twisting around to fully face Stiles.

“Are you breaking up with me?” he demands to know, eyes panicked as they stare at him.

“What? No!” Stiles protests loudly, not believing his ears. “Absolutely not! That is not in any way what’s happening here, okay?” He reaches over to take Derek’s hands in his, squeezing them tightly as he looks up into his green eyes. _How is he managing to screw this up so badly?_ “In what universe would I ever break up with you? Okay, in no universe would that ever happen, you’re smokin’ dude and I’m like way below you.”

Derek’s eyes instantly soften as he looks at him. “Is that what this is about? Stiles, I’ve told you before, you don’t need to be insecure.” Carefully he removes his hands from Stiles grip to cup his face instead. “I love you.”

And Stiles knows that he’s blushing, feels warm in his entire body from the confession, even though the confession is technically not meant for him.

“I – I love you too.” His throat feels dry as he speaks, and Derek’s eyes still focused on him makes it difficult to think clearly. “That’s what I mean I’d been thinking about. Just that it scares me a bit, that I love you so much.”

He averts his gaze directly after he says it, cheeks burning underneath Derek’s hands still pressed to his skin affectionately. He doesn’t think he’s ever said anything as remotely romantic as that before, and the fact that it’s not real makes it somehow even worse. Knows that he’s just an imposter taking what isn’t really his. Hopefully, the real Stiles from this world will forgive it, or even thank him for keeping his and Derek’s relationship afloat. God knows it would be easier for him to simply say fuck it and run.

“Come here,” Derek whispers tenderly, tugging Stiles against him and hugging him tightly.

Stiles goes about as stiff as a statue at the gesture, but slowly he makes himself ease into the embrace, bringing his hands around to hug Derek back.

It feels bizarre, and he has to keep reminding himself of the fact that it’s actually real and not just a figment of his imagination or a dream.

It’s not the first time he’s been this close to Derek, but it’s the only time Derek has initiated and actively wanted it, so Stiles thinks it’s not really comparable to them being in some type of life-threatening situation.

When Derek starts turning his head towards him, Stiles realizes what he’s about to do even before Derek presses their lips together. It’s surprisingly soft, whereas before in any of Stiles fantasizes, he’s always imagined Derek to be demanding and intense in his affection. More one for a quick fuck, rather than lovemaking, so to speak.

But now, his lips start of barely touching his own, more of a teasing than an actual kiss. For some reason, even that barest of touches has his whole body reacting. A feeling much like electricity traveling through his veins as he can feel his cock starting to harden dangerously fast. It’s enough that it almost has him dizzy.

Now, Stiles is not new to this type of thing, because if there was anything college had done so far, it was getting rid of his virginity. But there is obviously a big difference between making out with drunk frat boys and making out with _Derek Hale,_ long time crush and sexiest man on earth (or at least sexiest man in Stiles’ life).

Or perhaps it is simply the way Derek is touching him as if he’s something precious. Something to be adored.

When Derek slowly deepens the kiss, pressing their lips more firmly together and letting his tongue come out to tease ever so lightly against Stiles’ lip, it’s impossible to keep his mouth from falling open in response. He simply lacks the power to resist.

And Stiles thinks, one kiss wouldn’t hurt. The other stiles could forgive him for just one kiss, right? He had to keep up appearances after all.

He knows he’s making excuses, but he finds that he doesn’t really care. Tells himself he can be allowed to have this at least _once_ , can’t he?

A helpless moan falls from his lips, muffled and quickly swallowed up by Derek, who presses against him more fervently at the sound. When he slides one of his legs between Stiles’ and pushing it against his straining cock, the first moan is quickly accompanied by another.

It’s not altogether conscious, the way he starts rubbing against Derek’s leg after that, but his mind is trapped in a haze only seeking pleasure, and there’s a pressure building in his stomach quicker than he thinks it’s ever done before. It makes him feel a bit like he’s a teenager again. As if he’s going to come after only a few minutes of dry humping.

When Derek pulls back and starts trailing kisses down his neck before biting down and starting to suck on what Stiles knows will be a noticeable hickey later, he can feel the imminent way he’s edging closer to release.

“I missed you,” Derek speaks the words into his skin, whispers them lovingly just below his ear. “You always feel so perfect.”

Stiles tries to say something back, but he’s having a hard time keeping track of his thoughts, and so speaking feels risky. Instead, he grips onto Derek harder and allows himself to press a kiss against his throat. He smells like a small piece of heaven, and Stiles buries his face against his neck as he pants out ragged breaths. 

“God, you’re always so desperate for it, aren’t you?” Derek asks, and he sounds shaky himself, as if the mere fact that Stiles is getting off, is getting _him_ off. The thought makes his insides clench deliciously and Stiles tries to rub himself even more firmly against the leg beneath him.

Then he abruptly feels how the world shifts around him, and suddenly he finds himself on his back, staring up at Derek, who hovers above him with dark eyes.

He then leans down and kisses him again, harder and more insistent, and Stiles’ yields completely under his touch, heart beating loudly in his ears.

When Derek lowers himself down, Stiles can feel the hardness of him press against his own, and when Derek gives a small thrust against him, Stiles breath stutter in response. His hands fly up to grab at Derek’s hair, pulling and gripping tightly as Derek thrusts more and more insistently down against him.

“Fuck, _Stiles_.” The sound of his name on Derek’s lips has him feeling lightheaded, and he barely has time to react as Derek moves his hands down to make quick work of pulling both their pants down and grab a hold of Stiles dick.

He jerks in shock at the sensation, eyes widening as he blinks down between their bodies. He’s just about to push Derek away – because there’s one thing to rub against each other with clothes on, and another to remove that safety layer – when Derek shifts his own cock against him and pushes them together.

His head falls back against the couch with a pained groan, and he thinks it must hurt with how hard he’s pulling on Derek’s hair, but Derek only responds with a breathless groan of his own while tightening his fist around the both of them.

It’s slightly dry at first, but they’re both leaking pre-cum and soon Derek’s hand is moving easily as he jerks them off. Stiles can feel the way his cock pulses along with the movements, and every time Derek’s hand twists around the head it shoots tendrils of pleasure through his entire body.

 _This is bliss_ , Stiles thinks as he starts moving his own hips up to try and chase after the completion that he knows is near. His back arches up from the couch as the feeling builds and builds and builds –

“Come on,” Derek urges him, voice a deep rumble as he moves his hand quicker around them. “I want to see it. You always look so fucking pretty when you come.”

It hits him like a punch in the gut, traveling like a wave through his body, and he cries out as the feeling takes him.

“Derek,” he groans. Begs. “ _Derek_.”

“I’ve got you,” Derek murmurs, bending down to press his face against Stiles’ hair as his own hips stutter in their rhythm, and Stiles can feel as his cum splatter over his own crotch and stomach where his shirt has ridden up.

He’s left panting, body going completely slack as he tries to get his breathing and heartbeat back under control. 

When Derek lowers himself down and rests almost his entire bodyweight against him, Stiles grumbles slightly.

“You’re heavy,” he complains.

“Sorry,” Derek mutters, mouth just by his ear, causing goosebumps to break out all over Stiles’ body from the intimate nature of it.

Derek then maneuvers them to lie side by side instead, spooning Stiles from behind and hugging him against his chest.

With his face now turned away, Stiles can feel the guilt from what he’s just done start crawling to life within him. _I’m an awful person_ , he thinks. Not only has he now taken advantage of Derek, who’s unaware of who he actually is, but he has also completely betrayed this alternate version of himself. One kiss might have been okay, but he let it go way too far.

“We should probably go and shower it off,” Derek tells him quietly, and Stiles tightens his hand where it’s gripping onto Derek’s arm around his stomach. Can’t bear the idea of facing him just yet, not with the guilt still burning a hole in his head.

“Can we maybe just lay here for a while?” He asks. “We can clean it off later.”

“Of course,” Derek says, giving a small kiss to the back of his neck in comfort.

Stiles closes his eyes at the feel of it.

**o0o**

He’s exhausted when he gets home. Having to keep up the constant pretense of their relationship and this other version of himself, on top of blaming himself for being _the literal worst_ , all his energy has simply been drained.

The upside is that Derek didn’t appear to have taken notice of anything being off, so his acting must have been passable at the very least. The downside, however, is that because of this, the next morning Stiles wakes up to a text from Derek inviting him to dinner at his parent’s place. Apparently, since they didn’t make it to the family gathering the previous day, he thinks they should head over today instead.

It’s a terrible idea, if you ask Stiles. A road that can only lead to misery.

He does not want to see Derek’s family all alive and happy while knowing that in his reality they’re dead. More than anything though, he doesn’t want to have to see Derek being happy with them, because that’s just going to make it so clear all that he has lost. All the reasons for why he is so miserable.

And that’s to say nothing of what a breach of privacy it would feel like. He’s betting that his Derek wouldn’t actually want him to get an intimate inside look into what his family life was like, or how it _should have been,_ if they hadn’t died.

It simply seems wrong and leaves Stiles feeling icky about the whole thing.

The only problem with this, is that Stiles can’t actually say any of it to Derek, and after the whole thing yesterday, he’s trying really hard to be a good boyfriend. Not to mention that the other Stiles wouldn’t even bat an eyelash over meeting Derek’s family. Perhaps he would even really enjoy meeting them.

Stiles can’t help the grimace he makes at the thought of him possibly having a fantastic relationship with the Hales. Is that going to be another thing he’s going to have to lie about now as well?

At least with them not being werewolves they hopefully won’t be able to tell that he’s pretending as easily.

Either way, Stiles isn’t exactly left much of a choice, so he texts back a simple _great!_ and tries not to let the anxiety eat him alive.

To keep his mind occupied on other things, Stiles decides to get back to trying to research.

So he spends the first couple of hours of the day searching for whatever type of supernatural information he can find online on the more darker forums, but in the end he’s still left without anything useful to go on.

Stiles will admit that a part of him is starting to freak out about the whole thing. Not able to find anything on the internet or at the library, he’s left without many options, which means that there is a rising possibility that he has actually gotten himself stuck in a parallel universe.

And even though Stiles won’t lie about once or twice having dreamed about Derek being his boyfriend, no way will he be able to handle keeping the act up for any foreseeable future. He can’t live the rest of his life pretending to be someone he’s not, it would drive him crazy.

He just wants to go back to his normal life where he doesn’t have to feel like he’s constantly walking around on eggshells. Even if it means never again getting to experience the warmth from having Derek saying that he loves him.

“Stop thinking about that!” he scolds himself, dropping his head down into his hands as if this will help shut out the unwelcome thoughts.

In a desperate attempt to try and focus on something else, Stiles decides to head into town again.

He doesn’t know exactly what he’s meant to be looking for there, but it feels too soon to give up after only one time, and he needs something productive to do. Perhaps he missed or overlooked something. After all, he only really explored the center of town, so maybe there’s something to find in the outskirts instead.

So Stiles starts his exploring by heading to the high school. It stands before him much the same way that it normally does, although with the summer holiday underway it’s emptier than what it usually would be.

He wanders up the steps almost hesitantly as he realizes that he hasn’t actually been back here since when he started college. It feels nostalgic even as it brings back several bad memories that he would sooner rather forget.

It doesn’t take long to conclude that there doesn’t seem to be much to find at the school either, and Stiles will admit that a small part of him had actually thought there would be some sort of clue to be found there. With so many things in the past going down in this single location, it made him think that if there would be something in town to show him what was going on, it might be here.

There’s not much for it, though, and Stiles doesn’t let it get him down as he continues on to nearby neighborhoods, which he explores even with little hope of discovering anything useful.

Eventually, he finds himself circling back into the town square, and he ends up sitting in the parking lot to the diner he visited the last time as well. It’s way past lunch at that point and his stomach is grumbling over how much it’s craving food, so with a sigh, he heads inside.

He can afford a small break, and he’ll probably still have some time after before he’ll need to head back home again.

The doorbell chimes as the door open and he recognizes the waitress from yesterday as she looks up and smiles at him from behind the counter. Brenda, was it?

“I’ll just have a burger and a coke, please,” he tells her as he sits down at one of the barstools.

“Eating alone again?” she asks, and if it wasn’t for the teasing tone and the fact that he knows they’re supposedly friendly, he would snap back that it wasn’t really any of her business. He will also admit that the whole situation with Derek maybe has him a bit more irritable than usual.

“Yep,” he answers, popping the p in his mouth as his eyes absent mindlessly scans over the other guests.

“You should have him come around next time, it’s no good that he’s having you eat all alone all the time.”

His gaze travels back to where she’s leaning towards him with a twinkle of playfulness in her blue eyes. “Well, he’s working you know,” he deflects, feeling the previous guilt slowly creeping to life within him again.

Then his mind seems to recognize something and he leans forward to peer into her eyes.

“Are you wearing lenses?” he asks curiously.

With a frown, Brenda stands up straighter. “Excuse me?”

The clear puzzlement on her face has him hesitating enough to momentarily dismiss the idea, giving a shake of his head, “No matter,” he mutters.

For a few more seconds she regards him with sharp eyes before with a shrug heading towards the kitchen.

“I’ll have your food out to you in a minute,” she says.

It’s not until after he’s finished eating and is heading out that he remembers the text conversation with Derek from the previous day, and when he opens it, he looks down at his text describing her as; middle age, blonde short hair and with _green eyes_.

Now, if Stiles was anyone else, he would probably just disregard this. People misjudged or misremembered people’s eye color all the time. But he trusts his own judgment, and the frequent brushes with danger have forced him to always be perceptive to anything odd.

The fact that he might have stumbled upon his first real clue makes hope rise up within him, but before he can really think it over, his phone starts vibrating with an incoming call, and looking down, he sees Derek’s name staring back at him.

 _Fuck_ , he thinks.

“Hi Derek,” he answers, doing his best not to sound as nervous as he’s actually feeling.

“Hi.” Oh god, Stiles can hear the smile in his voice. How is that even fair? “I just got off work, you want me to pick you up?”

“Now?” The questions comes out a bit too accusing for his liking and he hurries to correct it. “It’s only four, I thought we weren’t heading over until six a clock.”

“Yeah, I know, but mum and dad wouldn’t mind if we came over earlier, and we haven’t seen them in a while so I just thought I’d be nice.”

Stiles can hear small traces of hesitation bleed into his tone and is quick to shut the insecurity down.

“Yeah, of course, of course. Just wasn’t really prepared. I’m in town now so I just need to head back home and get ready, you mind picking me up half past instead?”

“Okay, I’ll be there. Love you.”

Stiles is pretty sure that the blush that now colors his cheeks also reaches far down his chest. Derek being openly loving is just not good for his sanity. You’d think it’d be easier to hear it the second time, but Stiles thinks that the opposite might be true. That the ease with which it’s said tears at his insides.

“Love you too.” The reply sounds slightly choked and he stumbles over a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone, a groan of anguish falling from his lips.

**o0o**

Seeing the front of the Hale house, it’s fair to say that Stiles feels fairly intimidated. Maybe even more so because it’s really less of a house, and more of a _mansion_.

Yeah okay, perhaps something of an exaggeration. But considering the house is gigantic and has three floors, Stiles feels that it’s a pretty apt description.

Driving up to it along the large driveway where it’s lying secluded in the forest, he’s trying not to act as noticeably amazed as he actually is.

Seeing it the way he had before, all half burned down with overgrown vegetation everywhere, certainly didn’t do it justice. As it stands before him now, it’s beautiful, inviting, and more importantly, it looks like a place where a family lives. A juxtaposition for everything he has ever know it for.

The unease that bubbles in his stomach has him feeling almost nauseous, but when Derek parks the car out front and turns to look at him, Stiles swallows down the bile to give a warm smile back.

He refuses to ruin this.

So with a deep breath, Stiles steps out of the car and links his hand with Derek as they walk up to the front steps, getting ready to face what’s to come.

The touch helps anchor him some, even as it’s distracting in its own right, making something warm bloom in his chest.

“You seem nervous,” Derek says, looking down at him searchingly.

“Ah well, it’s like you said, it’s just been a while,” he hedges. “But it’s alright, I look forward to meeting them.”

The smile he gives must come of somewhat unsure because Derek’s eyes soften as he brings his other hand up to cup Stiles cheek before leaning down and giving him a brief, almost featherlight kiss that has Stiles wanting to beg for more.

“They already like you, so no reason to worry,” he mumbles, lips still close enough that Stiles can feel his breath on his skin. Stiles is not proud to say that arousal immediately flames to life within him, even for such a small and innocent gesture of affection.

“You can’t do that when we’re standing on your parent’s front porch,” he says, voice equally quiet.

“What, kissing you?” Derek asks, a smirk forming on his lips.

“Yes,” Stiles says, averting his eyes abashedly. “It makes me want to kiss you back.”

Even from the corner of his eyes, he can see how Derek’s smirk grows into a full-blown grin.

“Oh? I don’t see the problem in that.”

Then, before Stiles have time to react, Derek has his arms wrapped around him and presses kiss after kiss down his face and neck.

Trying to form coherent sentences, Stiles attempts to wiggle out of his grip, his face probably completely burning up, but Derek only laughs at his squirming, one of his hands sneaking down to squeeze his ass instead of letting him go. With a high pitch squeak, Stiles tries to get away from the touch, but of course this only results in him pressing himself closer to Derek’s chest.

That’s then the moment that the door is unceremoniously flung open, and Stiles stares wide-eyed at the tall brunette standing there looking at them with raised brows.

“Derek, for god sake, aren’t you supposed to be a bit too old for the whole making out like a hormonal teenager on the front steps?”

With laughter still in his eyes, Derek turns towards her, finally letting Stiles free from his embrace. Stiles immediately goes to straighten out his clothes, refraining from dragging his hand over where Derek lips had traveled, even as the impression of them still burned.

“Hello to you too, Laura. Didn’t know you were coming.”

“Well, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Stiles after all,” she says with a shrug, before giving Stiles a wide smile. “I hope you’ve been taking good care of my brother.”

“Jeez, don’t you think you’re a bit too old for the whole overbearing older sister act?” Derek retorts, taking hold of Stiles’ hand again to lead him past Laura into the house.

“There’s no such thing as being too old for that,” she says, reaching her hand over to ruffle his hair, which Derek quickly bats away.

“Stop messing up my hair.”

The laugh that falls from her lips is high and carefree and Stiles probably stares way too much, but it’s hard to ignore the pressing feeling over his heart from seeing her so… _alive._

“Is that them?” a female voice calls from further in the house.

“Yeah, mum, it’s us!” Derek calls back, and Stiles steels himself when he’s led forward, towards the voice.

**o0o**

All in all, the dinner goes well, even as Stiles could never fully relax during it. But the guilt in his chest only grew ever stronger from watching Derek with his family, and from being so easily treated as if he was a clear part of that as well. When really, he didn’t deserve to be there at all, and for every nice comment from Derek’s mother, or parental concern from his dad, the black thing inside of him only grew more overwhelming.

When he eventually returns home, the relief over being able to shut himself away in his room is palpable, and he spends the rest of the evening trying to forget about their smiling faces. Along with the birthday party he was invited to at the end of summer for Derek’s little brother.

Just the idea of it has him feeling sick, and Stiles is glad that both his little brother and little sister weren’t present during the dinner so that he was spared having to be faced with the reality of two young children dying in that fire as well.

Stiles can’t even imagine the pain that Derek must be living with, having lost all that he has.

For him, losing his mother was devastating, but he at least always had his dad. But for Derek… Derek has no one left.

Unless of course one was to count Peter, which Stiles certainly didn’t. That man was perhaps familiar to Derek, but he was still a very far leap from family.

So with fresh guilt brewing within him, Stiles knows that he needs some distance. Just for a while – just enough to get himself back together again.

It does make him feel bad to avoid Derek, especially as he promised not to ruin the relationship, but it’s not as if he’s completely ignoring him. Stiles simply makes up excuses for why they can’t meet up; that he’s tired or wants to spend some time with Scott, but they still text every day. Derek is even in the habit of calling him in the evening to say goodnight and have quiet conversations in the dark.

In those moments of stillness there are times when Stiles simply wants to give in, can feel the weak and selfish part of himself that wants to ask Derek to come over. Or ask if he can come to Derek’s place. It’s harder than he would like to admit to resist the temptation. Maybe especially because the deep part of him knows that Derek would say yes if he asked, even when it might be well past midnight. 

But he does persist in spite of this, and he doesn’t see Derek for several days.

Instead he spends his time fervently trying to research. He even goes back to the diner with the intention of either confronting or at the very least further investigate the waitress.

Only, when he gets there, she’s gone, and when he asks about her, the other staff doesn’t know when she’ll be back.

Even when going back the next day, and the day after that, he doesn’t see her again, and the whole thing only serves to make him more sure in his conviction of something being wrong about her. Making what had before only been a small suspicion, grow larger by the day.

**o0o**

“Hey dad,” he says, trying to seem casual where he’s leaning against the counter.

His dad, who had been putting his coffee cup in the sink to get ready and leave for work, turns to look at him.

“You know most people in town right?” Stiles continues.

“Sure, I guess so,” he answers, eyes clearly speculative as they regard him, wondering where the conversation is leading.

“Do you know Brenda from the diner then?”

He frowns. “Not sure. I can’t say that it’s ringing a bell, why?”

“I was just wondering if – _possibly_ – you could do a background check on her?” Stiles asks, trying to go for innocent, even as the raised brows and unimpressed look his dad sends him lets him know it isn’t really working.

“ _A background check?_ ”

“Yeah it’s just, I think I saw something.”

“And what was this that you think you saw?” his dad questions, brows climbing ever higher on his forehead. “Did she commit a crime?”

“Well, technically not. But –”

“Stiles,” his dad interrupts him with a frustrated groan, dragging his hand over his face. “I don’t know what this is about but I can’t simply do random background checks on people because you think someone feels off. That’s not how it works.”

“But –”

“No,” he states firmly, leaving no room for arguments. “Now, I need to head to the station, so don’t go and do something stupid.” At the last part, he sends Stiles a distinctly pointed look.

With a sigh, Stiles crosses his arms. “Fine. I won’t.”

For a few more seconds his dad stares at him before with a huff grabbing his jacket hung over the kitchen chair and heads out.

“I’ll be home again by eight,” he calls out, just before the door closes behind him, leaving Stiles alone in the house.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, he considers if it’s worth it to try and go to the police station and access the files himself. Seeing as he’s done it before in the past, it shouldn’t be that difficult. The only problem with this is that it would be way too conspicuous if he were to visit so soon after the conversation. His dad would immediately know that he was up to something. But if he waited a day or two it would probably be less suspicious. He could make lunch for his dad and use it as an excuse for why he’s visiting and then just sneak off and excess the file.

With a plan laid out in his mind, Stiles starts to ponder over what food he should make, and if it’s something that would require grocery shopping. As he’s away at college now, he obviously doesn’t cook as much for his dad as he used to. A fact which makes him worry a bit more over his health, so the lunch should probably be something healthy. Maybe a chicken salad?

As he’s trying to decide, he feels the vibration from his phone in the back pocket of his jeans.

It’s a text from Derek, which isn’t all that surprising, but Stiles feels the familiar nerves coming to life when he reads what it says.

(10.34am) _Want to come over tonight?_

Despite it having been several days by that point, Stiles doesn’t really feel ready. Maybe even more so because he actually misses him, which feels like dangerous territory to venture out on. Even so, he can’t very well say no without a valid excuse. It would only cause a rift between them again. So instead he simply replies;

(10.35am) _yeah ofc_

**o0o**

Derek greets him by the parking lot outside the apartment complex, as if he can’t stand being apart for even a few more minutes. As if the time it would take Stiles to enter and go upstairs by himself is too long to handle.

The moment Stiles is out of the car he’s lifted up and spun around, a yelp of surprise leaving his lips as his feet come off the ground and his arms automatically fasten around Derek’s back to hug him back and to keep himself steady.

It’s overwhelming to say the least and although he smiles back when Derek grins at him after putting him down again, it falters the moment Derek grabs his hand to walk inside and his gaze is directed towards the building instead.

“You seem happy today,” he comments as they step into the elevator.

“Of course,” Derek answers, eyes bright as he pulls Stiles towards him until they’re pressed tightly together. “I get to see you after all.”

“That’s some high praise.” He laughs nervously.

Derek’s response to this is to back him up against the elevator wall and kiss him deeply. Stiles’ blood pumps in his ears as Derek’s tongue invades his mouth and he doesn’t realize that he’s been holding his breath until Derek pulls away slightly and he can finally breathe. 

“I love you,” he whispers against Stiles’ lips, and Stiles only stares back wide-eyed.

_Say it back. Say it back._

The mantra repeats in his head, but with all the anxiety flooding him he just can’t make himself lie like this anymore –

The elevator voice alerts them that they’ve arrived at the correct floor and the door opens, breaking off his chain of thoughts. It seems to distract Derek as well and he doesn’t appear to have taken any notice to Stiles not saying it back as he eagerly pulls him towards his apartment.

The moment they’re inside, Derek’s hands are on him. They cup his ass and without warning he’s lifted and pressed against the door. His legs come up to wrap and tighten around Derek, and the position causes Derek’s hardening cock to press against his lower stomach.

It’s maddening and electrifies his whole body, something tight squeezing his stomach in anticipation as Derek presses their mouths together again, kissing him as if he’s unable to stop. As if he craves it.

Stiles folds under the strength of the desire, moaning into the kiss, hands clinging on to Derek’s back.

“Put your hands around my neck,” Derek says, and his voice is so low and gravely that Stiles would almost classify it as a growl if he hadn’t heard Derek _actually_ growl before. But the sound of it still makes heat pool between his legs and he obeys without further thought either way.

His nails must dig into Derek’s skin with how tightly he’s holding on, but Derek doesn’t seem to care as he walks them both over to the kitchen counter, putting Stiles down on the surface and capturing his mouth once again.

Teeth drag over his lower lip, biting down playfully and his breath hitch at the sensation, hips trying to press closer to Derek’s, grinding against him to try and abate the throbbing between his legs.

“I want to be inside of you. I want to feel the way you so fucking perfectly fit around my cock,” Derek groans, hands vice-like where they grab at his hips.

And Stiles – he can’t do it. _He can’t fucking do this._

“Stop,” he gasps out, pushing Derek firmly away from him. Heart pounding in his ear and erection still painfully hard in his pants. “This is wrong, okay, we should not do this.”

The hands leaving his body make him feel strangely lost and cold in their absence and Stiles is too much of a coward to make himself look Derek in the eyes. His uneven breath sounds terrifyingly loud in the sudden quiet that befalls them and he’s unable to keep them under control. All air feeling as it’s leaving his lungs as his throat swells.

“What are you talking about?” Derek’s voice still sounds slightly out of breath as well, and he sounds so hopelessly confused that Stiles thinks he might hate himself for causing it. But in the end, it doesn’t matter how much he hurts Derek by doing this because even after tiptoeing around the line, Stiles doesn’t dare completely cross it. If only for his own peace of mind – _he simply cannot._

He hops off the counter, legs barely carrying his weight with how shaky they feel, and he sees from the corner of his eye how Derek’s hand automatically stretches out to help keep him steady, only barely managing to avoid the touch. “Don’t!” _Please, don’t._

“Stiles, what the hell is going on?” Derek asks accusingly, voice growing louder with agitation.

“You’re not you and I’m not actually me,” Stiles says frustrated, forcing himself to finally meet Derek’s stare. “I mean, you are you obviously, and I am me, but we’re not the _right ones_!” His voice rises high enough that he’s bordering on shouting by the end and he vaguely thinks that he might be shaking.

Derek only appears lost, hurt and anger shifting all over his face. “You’re not making any sense,” he says.

“Yeah, I know I’m not,” Stiles answers. “but I can’t fucking do this.”

He turns his back to head out the apartment before he changes his mind, leaving Derek behind, standing bereft in the kitchen.

Perhaps it’s the shock that stops him from following as Stiles more or less flees the apartment building.

But even though no one is after him, Stiles still feels as if he’s being chased, all of his bad feelings spilling over in his chest.

He ends up in the jeep and simply driving, barely aware of where he’s going. All he knows is that he needs to get away. Somewhere. Anywhere else than here.

After a while, he comes back to himself enough to realize that he’s soon about to head out of Beacon Hills, and slows the car down to an almost crawl.

The road feels oddly empty seeing as it’s a time many people usually get home from work, and Stiles squints as the road starts to blur in the distance.

“What the fuck,” he mutters to himself, when he realizes that the road isn’t blurring as much as simply _disappearing._

Pulling the car to a stop and stepping out, Stiles frowns at his surroundings.

It is as if everything around him starts to lose their shape and colors the further that he walks along the road. The concrete vanishing underneath his feet, the trees growing sparser and sparser until there are none left, and the sky fading into nothingness.

In the end, it leaves him walking into the dark. Stiles has never before experienced such a complete lack of light and it should probably feel frightening, but the compact darkness doesn’t really feel threatening.

Instead, it simply feels… _empty._

Curious, Stiles walks further, and when light appears in the distance he jogs towards it. As the world starts to take shape around him once more, his pace falters upon the realization that he’s back by his car.

And that by his car, leans a familiar figure.

“You!” he exclaims shocked, pointing towards her.

“Me,” Brenda the waitress responds, sounding amused, studying him as he approaches her.

It’s only as he’s a few steps away that Stiles pauses, reminding himself that this person is most certainly not _actually_ a waitress, and probably quite dangerous.

“Oh, I’m not gonna hurt you, don’t worry,” she says. “Although you are correct in the assumption that I most definitely could if I wanted to.”

Taking a step back, Stiles narrows his eyes at her. “Did you just read my mind?”

“Sorry, habit,” She raises her hands in show of peace. “Can’t help it.”

“Who are you?” he asks. “ _What_ are you?”

A smirk plays on her lips as she pushing herself away from the car and walks towards him. “You humans have a lot of names for me,” she answers, going around and circling him much like a shark. Which is an apt description because Stiles certainly feels a lot like prey right now. “I don’t see why I should limit myself to one.”

Stiles follows her with his gaze as she dances around him, and he curses himself for not having kept a weapon on him.

_Always have a weapon on you._

Then she comes to a stop in front of him again. “You weren’t far off with the whole Fae thing though.” The wink she sends him throws him off for a second, not knowing if he should see the playfulness as her being harmless or like a cat playing with its food.

“You’re Fae?” he tries to clarify, in his mind trying to catalog any and all weaknesses that he’s ever read about the Fae having.

She only smiles amusedly at him in response, the smirk growing almost disturbingly wide. A sign that behind the persona before him lurked something far more sinister.

“Fine, don’t say anything,” he tells her irritated. “This is your doing then I assume?”

She makes a show of turning around as if searching for someone. “Well, there’s no one else around, is there.”

Stiles can feel his irritation rising at her lightheartedness. “Why? Where are we? Why are you even here now?”

She laughs loudly. “Whoa, lot of questions at once there.” Then she gives a sigh as if in surrender. “Well, you kinda ruined it by going here, didn’t you? It’s not really much of a point left if you know it’s not real anymore.” Pointing towards her face with an exasperated look she then added, “Not to mention, you already suspected me because of the whole eye color thing.”

“So I was right,” he states.

“Yes, well, I’m not exactly used to this form so it was an honest mistake on my part.” She heaves another sigh. “It was fun while it lasted though.”

“This is not your actual appearance then?” He questions her, even though it was something he had already suspected.

“Does this look like the true form of a powerful magical being?” She snorts, spreading out her arms and doing a little twirl as if on show.

Stiles only shakes his head at the display, because in the end, it doesn’t really matter what she actually looks like or what her true form is.

“In that case, are we just in my head right now or is this an actual physical place?”

She appears considering for a moment. “Neither really. But if you’re wondering if you’re in a coma or something right now, you’re not. Your body currently only exists here and not in the real world.”

“My dad –”

“Yes, yes, he and your friends are all very worried about you.” With a roll of her eyes, she waves away his concerns.

The blasé of her attitude has anger boiling like fire in his gut. All the turmoil from the past few days transforming into something red and hot.

“Bring me back,” he demands between clenched teeth.

“Jeez, what ever happened to asking kindly, huh?”

“Bring. Me. Back.” he repeats.

She spends a few seconds simply staring at him, head slightly tilted to the side in consideration. Then something mischievous falls over her face. 

“Do you actually want to leave?” she asks innocently, and she doesn’t say it out loud, but Stiles knows she’s referring to his relationship with Derek.

“It’s like you said, it’s not actually real, right?” His voice sounds more bitter than he was aiming for, but it’s hard not to let the frustration bleed through. “Why would I want to live my life in a fantasy?”

For some reason, the fact that this Derek isn’t real at all, makes him feel even worse. Even as a part of him thinks of all the unnecessary guilt he experienced, at least if Derek had been real he would have known that some alternate version of him was desired.

“Many people would,” she tells him.

“I want the real Derek, not this _pretend version_.”

She makes a humming sound, feigning disinterest as she plucks at her nails. “It’s not really pretend, you know.”

“Excuse me?” He asks, brows furrowing in confusion.

“This version of him, it’s not really pretend.” She looks up at him again as she speaks. “I mean obviously he’s not _real_ , per se, but I created him by using a blueprint of himself. Other than that, I haven’t been controlling his actions. The way he acts, the memories of his family, his feeling for you, those are still taken from reality.”

The world seems to still around him at the confession. Anger falling away to give way for bewilderment. “What?” His voice is almost inaudible as he tries to take in what he just heard.

Instead of replying, she only smiles knowingly towards him.

Straightening his back, Stiles forces himself to not think about it. She wants to play with him, and he won’t let her.

“I don’t understand, why are you doing this?” he asks.

“No real reason,” she responds with a shrug. “I guess it’s just sort of funny to watch you squirm.”

“Funny to watch me squirm,” Stiles repeats, unimpressed and accusing in his tone.

She throws her arms out. “I was bored, fucking sue me!”

“And all the other things, those were simply because you were bored as well?”

Her arms fall back to her side as she stares at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lip. “What can I say, I enjoy messing a bit with people’s lives.”

“You –” But before he can speak, a hand is put over his mouth, and he blinks repeatedly as his eyes register that she is no longer standing in front of him.

“You should be thanking me,” she murmurs, the heat of her breath fanning over his neck. “I literally served you your fantasy on a silver platter.”

The shock leaves him a second later and with clenched hands he twists out of her grip, wishing for the added length of his baseball bat as his swinging fist misses her face by inches as she laughing steps back.

“You took me away from my home and made me stress out about having to live some double identity and worrying about betraying some alternate version of myself!” He seethes.

Unfaced by his attempt at attacking her she rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. No need to be so rude about it though.”

Then, quicker than Stiles can react, she reaches forward and snatches hold of his wrist, causing the rest of the world to fall away around him.

**o0o**

Stiles wakes up lying on the cold, hard ground, and blinking up at the night sky, he tries to gather his thoughts back together.

“Ah, you’re awake.” The voice makes him groan as he turns over on his side.

“I hate you,” he says. “You did that on purpose.”

“Maybe,” the Fae responds, and when Stiles peaks up at her, there’s a self-satisfied grin playing on her lips that tells him that it’s not as much maybe, as _definitely_ _on purpose_.

“Are we back?” he asks, body heavy as he pushes himself to stand up.

“As you wished,” she says, making a gesture to the left, and as he looks, Stiles realizes that they’re standing right by his back yard.

He makes to walk towards it automatically, when he stops and turns around.

“I don’t know what your deal is, but unless you leave, we’ll hunt you out of town,” he warns her.

“Don’t worry, I needed to leave anyway.” She smirks at him and takes a bow. “Until we meet again in the future, Stiles,” she says, and as hair falls down over her face, she vanishes.

He stares for several seconds at the place from where she disappeared before giving himself a shake and heads for the house.

It’s clad completely in darkness, no sound indicating anyone being home, yet when he tries the back door, it’s unlocked and easily pushed opened.

Hesitatingly, he steps inside. “Dad?” he calls out. “You home?”

There’s scraping coming from the kitchen from the sound of a chair being pulled back, and moments later his dad materializes in the opening of the living room, his figure visible through the soft light spilling in from outside.

He’s pale and unshaven, a beer bottle still clenched in his hand as he stares at Stiles.

“ _Dad_.” He rushes forward and flings his arms around him, hugging him as tight as he can manage. His dad is first unmoving in response, but slowly the bottle falls from his hand and his arms come up to embrace him, crushing Stiles against his chest.

“That really you, son?” he asks, and the way his dad’s voice breaks shatters something within him. Makes him want to turn back time just to have another chance at punching the Fae in the face.

“It’s really me, dad. Promise.”

“I thought I might have lost you,” his dad confesses, and the tightness of his grip is almost painful, but Stiles lets him have it.

They stand like that for a while before his dad seems to pull himself back together and breaks the hug, holding Stiles at arm’s length to be able to study him. “We couldn’t find you anywhere, what the hell happened? Where have you been?”

“I –” Stiles begins, before faltering, realizing that he hasn’t really thought to come up with a believable excuse. Then again, he doesn’t exactly have a reason to lie –

“I was kidnapped,” he says.

His dad’s pale complexion loses if anything even more of its color at his words.

“Are you hurt?” he asks frantically, hands patting Stiles down in search for injury.

“Dad –” Stiles stills his hands and holds them firm in his. “Dad, _I’m fine_ ,” he assures, and his composure helps quell the panic still brewing in his father’s eyes.

With a nod, he takes a calming breath. “Did you see their faces and know why they did it?” he questions, naturally falling back into his role of sheriff.

“No, I’m sorry” he laments. “And I didn’t hear their voices either. They kept me locked up in the dark the whole time and then I just woke up back here.”

“There’s nothing you need to apologies for son,” his dad states. “We need to get you to the station so that you can give a statement and in the meantime I’ll have some people sent out to patrol the area, in case they left any evidence behind or are still close by.”

“Okay,” he agrees.

Then he’s wrapped up in a hug again. “Please don’t scare me like that again, my poor heart can’t handle it.”

“Your heart can’t handle it cause all you eat is junk food,” he jokes, and his dad gives a chocked laugh.

“It’s good to have you back,” he says.

“It’s good to be back.”

**o0o**

His dad contacts Scott on the way to the station to let him know that Stiles is safe, and Stiles can hear shouting coming from the other end of the phone even as he can’t discern their meaning.

“You can’t go bringing a bunch of people to the station now,” his dad tells Scott. “But you and your mum are always welcome.”

And Scott and his mum do come.

They arrive just in time for them having finished putting in his statement, and Scott crosses the room in seconds flat to throw his arms around him.

“I’m getting lots of great hugs today. Maybe I should go missing a bit more often,” he jokes.

“Don’t you dare,” Scott says, giving him an admonishing slap on the arm.

“Hey! Don’t harm the kidnapped kid!” he laughs.

“You’re ridiculous,” Scott says with a shake of his head, but Stiles can see the way his teasing has helped lift some of that darkness having settled in Scott’s eyes, and feels relieved.

Then Scott pauses for a bit. “Are you really okay?” he asks.

Stiles throws a look around to make sure no one is within hearing distance before he leans closer to whisper in Scott’s ear. “I was taken by a fucking Fae.”

Scott instantly goes tense and grabs a hold of Stiles’ arm. “ _What?_ ”

“Not so loud!” Stiles hisses at him.

“What do you mean, Fae?”

“What do you mean, _“what do I mean?”,_ it was a fucking Fae,” Stiles answers, pausing as an officer walks within hearing distance of them. “Or something close enough at least.”

“How did you escape?”

Stiles grimaces. “I didn’t, technically, she let me go.”

Scott nods considering. “So it’s a she then?”

“Oh well, it’s just the form it took, but no, probably not,” Stiles says, feeling frustrated over not actually having much useful information to contribute with, even after meeting the damn thing.

“And where is she, _it_ , now?”

“Left town, hopefully. But also, I wouldn’t trust her for shit.”

Stiles sees the way Scott opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get any words out, Melissa approaches them.

“I’m sorry to interrupt the reunion boys, but I’m going to want one of those hugs as well,” she says, giving Stiles a soft smile as she holds her arms out.

Exhaling, he steps into her warm embrace. “Hi, Melissa,” he says. “Sorry if I made you worry.”

She laughs, stroking over his hair gently. “I’m just happy that you’re okay.” She pauses, tightening the arms wrapped around him as she lowers her voice. “Your dad wouldn’t survive without you, you know that, right?” she says quietly, and he can hear the tremor in her voice. The tears she’s holding back.

“I know,” Stiles says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

They head back home soon after that, saying goodbye to Scott and his mum and wishing them goodnight. Stiles has just enough time to drag Scott aside and let him know they should set up a pack meeting before his dad ushers him away.

The following few days he spends at home with his dad, assuring himself that he’s actually okay and staying away from the alcohol. When it seems as if he’s cooping and can handle Stiles going away for the evening, he makes plans with Scott regarding the pack.

And after making sure his dad has dinner ready, he heads over to Derek’s loft.

His fingers fidget on the steering wheel as he tries not to get to overwhelmed by the idea of seeing Derek again. But however much he attempts to, it’s hard to forget about the memories of Derek’s searing touch on his skin.

Or of the Fae’s confession of Derek’s feelings.

He’s greeted at the door by Allison, and it’s not long before the others join in as well. Even Jackson sees it fit to give him a quick hug and welcome him back.

Only Derek keeps his distance, which is predictable since he’s never one to display many emotions openly. But Stiles can’t help but sneak a peek towards where he’s standing, hidden behind the rest.

And when he meets Derek gaze which is already fixed on him, the werewolf inclines his head in a short nod and Stiles knows that that’s probably the best welcome from this Derek that he’s going to get.

Yet, even as he had expected it, it feels… awkward.

Going from a version that would lavish him in love and then back to this… it’s bizarre. Even as the normalcy of it has him relieved, he would be lying if he said it also didn’t hurt.

He’s forced to break from his thoughts and Derek’s gaze as Lydia pulls him away.

“Okay, tell us everything,” she says, pushing him down to sit on the couch with her beside him, the rest of the pack gathering around them.

“Not much to tell really,” he says, scratching his neck self-consciously as vivid memories of Derek’s tongue stuck down his throat assaults him.

He hopes it’s not too obvious the way he’s avoiding looking towards the corner where Derek has taken up space.

“That’s not true,” Lydia says. “Scott told us you’d been taken by a Fae.”

“Well… yes. Although I will reiterate that I’m not actually sure if it technically was a Fae _specifically_.”

“What do you mean?” Alisson asks, her hand clutched in Scott’s, and they both look at him with matching frowns.

“She took a human form so it’s not as if I could tell, and she might have hinted but –” Stiles gives a shrug. “She never actually confirmed.”

“More importantly,” Erica says, leaning towards him with a tense expression, “where is she now and will she be a threat?”

“I –” Stiles throws his hands up. “I honestly have no idea.”

“But you said she left town, didn’t you?” Scott asks him.

“She said she would, yes,” Stiles answers. “But then she also went all mysterious on my ass and said we’d _meet again in the future_.”

Malia snorts. “So she’s full of shit then.”

“She said that she just liked to mess with people,” he confesses.

“Wait,” Lydia says, “so was she the one –”

“The things happening in town? Yep.”

“See, I said someone actually called me!” Scott proclaims as Alisson continued regarding Stiles steadily.

“And what happened to you?” she asks him.

“Huh?” He knows full well what she’s asking, but he had kind of been hoping to be able to avoid having to talk about it, considering he already has a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

“When she kidnapped you,” she clarifies. “Where did she take you? What did she do?”

“She didn’t really do anything. I didn’t even know I had been kidnapped at first, I just thought I’d ended up in a parallel universe.”

“A parallel universe?” Lydia’s eyebrows raise in question as she waits for answers.

“Woke up in my bed and thought everything was normal and then suddenly I find out no werewolves exist, so logical confusion – a parallel universe.”

Boyd hums in thought. “But we were all still there?” he asks.

"I didn’t see most of you, but you existed I guess. Just like – different versions of yourself.” He can’t help but glance towards Derek as he says it, but it’s a fleeting gaze, his attention quickly drawn back to Lydia once more.

“Different how?” she asks.

Stiles, who sees his chance to turn the conversation onto something lighthearted before it has the opportunity to go onto shaky grounds, immediately takes it. “Well…” he starts slowly, his eyes traveling between Lydia and Erica. “for example, you and Erica totally had a thing.”

“What?” Lydia blinks at him just as Jackson stands up from his seat in one of the armchairs.

“ _What?_ ” he echoes her, face scrunched up in disbelief.

But it’s Erica who finally has Stiles breaking down in laughter, because instead of seeming shocked she simply scans Lydia over in consideration.

“I could do worse,” she comments, giving Lydia a wink which Stiles would swear has Lydia flustered.

“I did not need to know that,” Boyd mutters, and Erica turns towards him to give him an audible kiss on the cheek.

“You know you’re still number one, babe,” she tells him.

As the rest of the pack laughs and continues joking around, Stiles can feel the tension that had first hung over the room slowly lifting. And after some more questioning surrounding what to do next – which really only amounted to having to do more research and waiting for if the Fae actually did come back – Stiles manages to sneak off into the kitchen under the pretense of grabbing himself something to drink.

Standing with his back to the opening, he can already guess who has followed him when he hears the footsteps of someone entering the kitchen after him.

“You okay?” Derek asks, and he sounds oddly hesitant in his question.

With closed eyes, Stiles braces himself before he turns around with an easy smile. “Yeah, I’m good,” he says.

But as he stares at Derek, he can feel the forced smile playing on his lips quickly faltering.

He can still remember the taste of Derek’s skin, the feeling of his arousal pressing against him, the urgency of his desire.

And Stiles… he wants it back. But the real thing this time.

“I saw your family,” he blurts out, and he sees the way Derek’s face falls at his words.

“What?” His voice is small and uncertain as emotions Stiles can’t identity flicker in his eyes.

“I didn’t meet all of them,” he clarifies, nervously fingering the bottle of soda he’s gripping. “But your parents, and Laura. I met them – they’re nice.”

He looks down, feels bad for confessing, even as he knows it wouldn’t be something that he would have been able to carry forever in secret either way.

When he returns his eyes to Derek, he already has his mask carefully put back in place.

“It wasn’t actually them,” Derek says, and Stiles can’t fully identify his emotions from the flattens in his tone, but he thinks it might be bitterness.

“No, I know,” he agrees. “But… she said that they were memories. _Your_ memories.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Derek asks quietly.

“I just thought you deserved to know, I’m sorry.”

Derek shakes his head. “You don’t need to apologize,” he says, even as he seems to have a difficult time keeping eye contact.

And suddenly, Stiles just feels terribly guilty for dredging up past hurt so unnecessarily.

“I just wanted to let you know, that I’m here, if you ever wanted to, you know, talk about them or anything like that,” he tells Derek, and immediately curses himself in his mind because how _lame_ and _stupid_ did that not sound? As if simply because he met Derek’s family once he can now better understand his loss. _Fucking idiot,_ he tells himself.

He’s just about to make a quick escape back to the others when a hand swings out to grab a hold of his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Why would you meet my family?” he asks Stiles.

“You brought me over for dinner,” he answers honestly. Feels incapable to lie. 

Then, a sudden boost of determination comes over him and he decides that, _now or never_. Hoping to god that the arguing voices coming from the living room mean the rest of the pack aren’t paying them any attention and isn’t currently listening in on their conversation,

“And you brought me over for dinner because you were my boyfriend.”

Derek instantly pulls his hand away as if burned. “ _Boyfriend?_ ”

“Yes, boyfriend,” he repeats. “That’s so hard to believe?”

He feels suddenly insecure as the realization that she might have lied washes over him. But either way, _he must know._

“That’s not what I –” Derek frowns, and if Stiles hadn’t just spent several days being extremely intimate with him, he might have missed the way the tips of his ears turn slightly red from embarrassment.

“Do you like me, Derek?” The question slips out before he can think twice about it, and even Stiles feels shocked about his own brazenness.

Derek on the other hand, seems passed shock. Eyes wide as he stares at Stiles, a deer in the headlight look crossing his face, eyes flitting to the side as if looking for an escape route.

“Who told you that?” he asks, and any doubts Stiles might have had are quickly washed away because that certainly wasn’t a _no_.

He can’t help the grin that starts tugging at his lips. “Does it matter?” he retorts, taking a step closer, leaving them almost pressed together from how little room is now left in between them.

“Stiles –” Derek starts, voice rising in alarm at his approach, and Stiles feels his expression soften, taking a step back again to allow for some space.

“Hey, it’s fine. Sorry for kinda springing it on you like that,” he says, smiling apologetically. “I know that you have a bunch of trauma that probably needs working through, but I just wanted to let you know that I like you too, and if you need some time to figure everything out, that’s fine. Just, maybe give me a call when you’ve decided, okay?”

He goes to head for the living room, thinking it’s probably best to leave Derek to get his thoughts back in order, when once again, he’s stopped by a hand tugging at him.

“Wait. I –”

Stiles stops and looks expectedly at Derek, but he seems unable to think of what to say. Mouth opening like he wants to speak even as no words come out, along with a fearful look that plays in his eyes as he stares at Stiles.

“It’s okay,” he assures him, putting a gentle hand over Derek’s and giving it a squeeze. “Don’t push yourself, big guy.” He gives a faint smile, and then, before he can change his mind, he dives in and gives Derek a quick kiss on the lips.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says. “I’ll wait.” And with a grin, he backs away, Derek having released his arm in the shock, a stunned expression on his face as he watches Stiles go.

Just before he disappears from view, Stiles catches something unreadable hidden in Derek’s gaze.

But he thinks it might be something hopeful.

A gaze that promises something more.

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless inspiration from Coraline with the whole “only creating what was necessary of the world” and the world fading away as you walk outside its limit 
> 
> Also, if you want, you can come find me on [tumblr](http://ohanimehell.tumblr.com/)


End file.
